


Shhhh!

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: High School AU, Library AU, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris works in a library, but he does accept bribes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
Darren’s pretty bad at being quiet. He always  _means_ to obey the rules, but he just gets excited and he gets a little carried away. Life is boring without a little noise to it.

“He doesn’t have to be such a dick about it,” Darren whispers sulkily, glaring in the direction of the shelver kid who just went out of his way to shush Darren.

Chuck rolls his eyes. “Your 3DS was so loud I’m pretty sure Mom could hear it downstairs.”

“Was not,” Darren says, but he checks to make sure the volume is down again anyway. “They just hate me.”

“They do,” Chuck agrees. “The only reason you’re not banned already is because they like Mom so much, and our parents donate money.”

“They don’t hate me!” Darren’s head pops up, and his voice rises. He’s contradicting what he’d just said, but he doesn’t care. “They fucking love me.”

“They banned you from bringing musical instruments into the library.”

“But they came to all my freshman year recitals.”

“You aren’t allowed within  fifty feet of the rare book room.”

“I was twelve.” Darren whines. “Those books are so old I thought there must be at least one awesome spell book in there, like in Harry Potter.”

“I’m pretty sure at twelve even you knew that magic wasn’t real.” Chuck dismisses Darren after that, dropping his attention back down to the book he’s reading. It’s a boring lame-ass textbook because Chuck is a boring lame-ass college freshman who does things like coming into a library and actually reading and studying.

Darren pushes away from the table. He can find more interesting things to do here… even if he isn’t allowed near the rare book room. Or the children’s train set. Or the computer room.

He’s always wondered what that whole microfiche thing actually was…

He shoves his 3DS into his pocket and starts to explore. He really does love the library. If he didn’t love it so much he’d just stay home and watch tv when his mom comes to her book club meetings. He likes the way the library seems slightly sinister even though they try to keep it all brightly lit. He’s not big on reading but he still thinks the books smell kind of cool.

“What are you doing back here?”

Darren jumps, hand on the spine of a big green leather book. “It’s you!”

_You_ is, in this case, the grumpy kid that scolded Darren earlier. His name tag says Chris.

“There is no reason for you to be back here,” Chris says, eying Darren warily.

“There’s no reason for me to  not be back here, either,” Darren says. “And why does it matter to you?”

“Your mom gave me twenty bucks to make sure you didn’t get into trouble,” Chris says.

“Oh.” Well. Points to the maternal unit for that. “I’ll give you five to go away.”

“Why would I take your offer of five over her offer of twenty?” Chris gives Darren a look like he’s dumb.

Darren shrugs. “Five bucks is all I have. I figured you’d barter.”

“That’s not how that works.” Chris reaches past Darren to grab a book abandoned haphazardly on a shelf, out of proper order and alignment.

"Well, look, I can offer you five bucks and..." Darren digs in his pocket. He comes up with a gumball, two guitar picks, a few paper clips, and a condom. His face goes red and he shoves it back in his pocket. “Uh, wow, don’t know how that got there.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but his face is red, too. “I’m sure you don’t.”

“Shut up,” Darren says. “Um. Okay. Awkward. Bartering?”

Chris won’t look at him at all now. “Is this where I make a very inappropriate joke about services you might be rendering, and you run screaming your war cry of  no homo into the sunset?”

Darren’s jaw doesn’t drop - too cliche, that never really happens - but he does stare at Chris dumbfounded before he snorts laughter in a much too loud manner for the setting. “Holy shit, I like you. Hit me with your best shot.”

The look Chris shoots Darren is absolutely bewildered. “What?”

“I mean, come on. Five bucks, and…?” Darren makes a hand gesture. “What’ll it take?”

Chris stares at him. “Kiss me.”

Gay chicken. Darren’s favorite. No, seriously, he  _rules_ at this game. Probably because of the whole being half gay thing. Not that he goes around telling people that all the time. He’s into girls and girls are into him and it’s more circumstance than intention that he’s only done the whole public  dating thing with girls.

He’s fine with with dude-time tonsil hockey, though. And this kid -  Chris \- he’s not exactly Darren’s normal type, but he made Darren laugh and that’s like the number one step in the Care and Feeding of Your Darren Criss manual.

Besides, it’s not like he had much else to do. It’s a fucking  library \- can’t even hum to yourself without someone all up in your business claiming you’re disturbing their peace.

“Okay.” Darren starts to lean forward and then stops. “Wait, how old are you? You look twelve. You aren’t twelve, are you? I'm not kissing a twelve year old.”

“I go to your school. Do you really not know?” Chris says. “I pass you in the hall twice a day, at least.”

Darren shrugs. His school isn’t tiny. He’s a senior. He has a lot of friends. He’s pretty sure Chris isn’t in his grade, at least. “No?”

“Sixteen,” Chris answers, without missing a beat. If Darren knew Chris better, he’d know to understand that it was clearly a tell, being too smooth - but he doesn’t.

“Okay.” Darren isn't even quite eighteen yet. That's not so bad.

He cups Chris’s cheek and plants one on him.

It’s… nice. Really nice, actually. Chris has soft lips and he parts them slightly when Darren bumps the kiss up to just-past-chaste level, a little press and release. It’s so nice that Darren goes back for seconds and his tongue swipes over Chris’s bottom lip and his thumb brushes back and forth along Chris’s cheek. He pulls back for only a beat or two before going in again. And… why not make it worth it, right?    
  
Except Darren is breathing hard by the end and he feels a little hazy around the edges and a lot like he wants to keep doing that.

“Wow.” Chris steps back. “Um.”

“That okay?” Darren grins, tries to play it cool. “Meet the terms of the agreement?”

Chris’s face falls and Darren feels bad and he’s not sure why or what just happened, until Chris says, “So now you give me five bucks and I leave you alone. Right.”

And wait - whoa, no, suddenly that’s the last thing Darren wants. “Um,  or . Plan B.”

“Plan B?” Chris asks.

“Yeah. You can keep my Mom’s money - she’ll probably end up tipping you if you do your job well enough -  and definitely guarantee that I stay out of trouble.” Darren hops up onto one of the tables and swings his legs back and forth, grinning at Chris.

“How, um. How do I guarantee you stay out of trouble?” Chris stammers a little, which is endearing.

Fuck. He’s so fucking cute. He’s like a little slightly squishy ball of adorable. Darren wants to wrap him up and take him home. Or maybe just kiss him some more and see how pink his cheek scan get. “By keeping me busy yourself.”

Darren holds a hand out. Chris’s eyes go wide in a satisfying way. “I could get fired.”

“Aw, come on, Chris. Live a little.” He pouts and makes an impatient gesture with his hand.

“We’re not doing anything that would require what you have in your pocket,” Chris warns.

“Fine, fine.” Darren makes a face. “I won't Macguyver a ball-gag out of that gum, paper clips, and guitar picks.”

“Asshole.”

Darren’s mouth twitches trying not to smirk. “Okay, I’m pretty sure that  _would_ involve the con-”

“Ohmygod shut up.” Chris reaches out and slaps a hand over Darren’s mouth.

Not quite what Darren was after, but at least Chris is within grabbing distance now - so Darren does just that.

*

Darren breaks a kiss to ask. "So is this you teaching me about the do-me decimal system?" 

"I hate you," Chris whispers, slightly muffled by Darren's tongue toward the end. 

*

"Does your mom always give people money to get them to make out with you?" Chris whispers, while Darren's mouth is somewhere near his collar bone. 

"No." Darren bites down lightly. "Sometimes Dad pitches in." 

*

"So how many old perverts have you caught masturbating in the computer room?" Darren asks, both hands shoved down Chris's back pockets, squeezing generous handfuls of his ass. 

"Too many," Chris answers, panting slightly and obviously trying to keep some distance between their hips while Darren obviously tries for the opposite of distance. "Way too many."

*

Two hours later, Darren’s sitting outside of the library. He’s got half a boner still and he can barely feel his lips. Life is fucking good.

His mom and Chuck have already taken off, but Darren said he’d find his own way home.  

The lights in the building all go off and a minute later Chris comes out, just ahead of a few middle aged women.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” Chris admits, like in the course of the hour and a half or so of heated making out and minor groping he hadn’t at all picked up on the fact that Darren is at a very minimum open to the idea of finding out if Chris is someone he’s into.

He’s kind of already made up his mind, actually, but Darren has gotten in trouble by leaping in too far too fast before. So he’ll be more cautious this time. A little more cautious, but also still while reserving the right to kiss Chris in the face region as much as he’s allowed, because  wow . Kid’s got some moves.

And he looks so fucking happy that Darren’s still there. It just makes Darren all bubbly with happiness right back.    
  
He grabs Chris’s hand. “You have a curfew?”

“Eleven,” Chris says. “Not that I’ve ever tested it.”

It’s just past nine, which works for Darren. “Great. In that case, lead the way to your car. I don’t have a ride and I’m starving. How do you feel about treating me to a burger?”

“Hey,” Chris protests. “Why am I the one treating you?”

“Because,” Darren says, bumping their shoulders together. “Because my Mom totally paid you twenty bucks to make out with me. I did half the work, so I deserve a burger, at least. If we’re being fair I’d ask for a milkshake, too.”

Chris sighs in a heavy, put-upon way. “Too bad life isn’t fair.”

“Fine, fine.” Darren squeezes Chris’s hand. “I won’t push my luck. ”

“Maybe.” Chris’s palm is a little sweaty. It’s cute in a way that palm sweat shouldn’t be. “Milkshakes on the second date?” 

Darren’s first inclination is to be an asshole and make fun of him, but he stops because the truth is… he’s already looking forward to the second date, too.

“I mean,” Chris adds, voice regaining some of that witty edge that caught Darren off guard so much to begin with. “As long as your mom is willing to keep footing the bill.”

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

As far as Chris sees it, there are only three problems with this whole secretly making out with Darren freaking Criss thing that seems to be happening with a delightfully alarming regularity.

The first thing: Darren is under this strange assumption that Chris is actually worth his time. Chris can understand how once, under bad public library lighting, Darren might could made the mistake of thinking that Chris was someone he _wanted_ to get to second base with but after their burger date the first night Darren had to have actually gotten a good look at him. The fact that he didn't run screaming for the hills is only slightly less confusing to Chris than the chem take home exam that he's currently avoiding. Chris is a habitual liar in situations where he thinks he can get away with it consequence free. He likes to consider it getting into character; pretending to be someone besides himself. He likes the confidence that stepping outside of his own mind gives him.

The day he told Darren to kiss him, Chris was adopting the role of Someone Actually On Darren's Level. Darren will discover this. He will discover that Chris has exactly zero experience with kissing and making out, that Chris definitely isn't a junior like Darren seems to have assumed, that Chris has never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend, and that Chris is on the list of people whose mere presence alongside can detract from someone's rep.

(Though if anyone is well liked enough to survive the social suicide that is Chris, it would be Darren.)

The second thing: He's probably going to get fired. Darren is a bad influence. Chris tells him this frequently, usually while Darren is trying to get some part of his body closer to some part of Chris's body. Chris actually really likes this job and he actually really doesn't want to lose it. It's way better than the dry cleaner and he can still scoop cookies in the mornings, which he does as much for the camaraderie and dough-related job perks as he does the meager salary.

The third thing: there isn't really one. Three is just a nice number.

*

The weird thing is, Darren doesn't just want to make out with him. Darren actually wants to hang out with him, too. He follows Chris through the stacks bugging him.

"Come on," he whines. "I know you don't actually work five days a week."

"You don't know that," Chris shoots back. He doesn't, of course; he has Tuesdays and Thursdays off. "Maybe they're slave drivers."

"Public library systems dealing in slave labor..." Darren taps his chin thoughtfully. "I should write a daring expose on that."

"Child slave labor," Chris adds. "Might as well embellish to make it sound better."

"This is why I keep you around. So - you're embarrassed by me, aren't you?" Darren asks. He drops back against a table melodramatically. Chris rolls his eyes. One thing he's definitely learned so far is that Darren Criss is a drama queen. It makes sense. He's actually in drama. And band. And choir. And every other club. Basically, if a group or gathering of three or more students exists Darren is there in attendance.

Including now sometimes with Chris.

"You never used to actually come to the library except when your mother was here, right?" Chris asks.

Darren shrugs. "I came by. Sometimes. When I had a paper due. To use the, you know..." He gestures around them.

"Books?" Chris supplies.

"Is that what they're called?" Darren sits up again, feet swinging. "Pre-Kindle devices."  
  
"So we've established that you are at least familiar with one possible use of the library." Chris realizes the books on the cart aren't even in order yet, and wastes some time doing that. "And once you were here you - what, conned old ladies into helping you write it?"

"I'm wounded, Chris. They only helped me research. I did the writing myself. Most of it, anyway." Darren grins. He has stubble, Chris notices. Actual stubble.

It's hot.

(Chris is... not quite there yet. His family doctor isn't concerned, though. Well, he's concerned, but he's more stuck on that whole voice thing. Puberty is a cruel bitch to some people. But not Darren. Clearly.) 

"Cheater," is what he says, instead of complimenting Darren's stubble.

"I prefer to think of it as exhibiting real world application of learned social skills." Darren's grin notches up from Charmingly Smug to Attractively Assholeish.

"I call it bullshit," Chris remarks, turning his back to Darren to slot a couple more books into their places.  
  
"That, too." Darren doesn't try to argue it, at least.

He doesn't say anything else after that but the hair on the back of Chris's neck prickles and he realizes Darren has moved to stand directly behind him. "What are you doing?" Chris asks.

"Using my social skills," Darren whispers, and kisses Chris's shoulder just above the neck of his t-shirt.

Chris pops a boner in about a tenth of a second, which. Awkward. You'd think the high likelihood of being interrupted would stifle the physical responses, but nope. Not even remotely. In fact, he's made out with Darren in the library so many times that he's beginning to have very inappropriate reactions to the sound of the book cart squeaking over the floor.

"Can we go makeout corner?" Darren whispers, fingers curling over Chris's hips.

"I should never have told you about that," Chris whispers back.

Apparently getting off in a library is a _thing_ for some people, and behind the counter is a tally sheet of how many times couples have been caught getting down and dirty in the small but ever-present third floor nook that houses the large print foreign language erotica. Chris is pretty sure that most libraries don't even have that, but... there was a former branch manager, apparently, who had a few quirks.

Darren keeps doing this.

Like he's seducing Chris or something. Like he has to try. Chris is a teenager with an active imagination and sudden access to someone he's had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time. To the extent that when Darren's mother had shown up in the library Chris had purposely kept himself in her periphery hoping she'd introduce herself or come to him if he needed help, just to be one step removed from Darren.

(That plan... that was a good plan.)

"We can't," Chris says, determined to exhibit some kind of work place ethic, tenuous though it may be.

"Bet we can," Darren says.

"We shouldn't," Chris tries again.

"But we want to..." Darren's fingers find under his shirt. Darren is pretty hands in the PG-13 and under areas.

Chris wants to be annoyed, but a hot guy is actually exerting energy to try and coerce h Chris into being physical with him. It's basically Christmas and birthday all at once. Chris tries not to smile.

If he smiles Darren will know he's winning.

(Or maybe Darren just always assumes he's winning, since he usually always is.)

*

They do go out again. Darren takes him for a bike ride - actual bicycle, but a pretty bad-ass one. Chris wraps his arms around Darren and mocks him incessantly the entire ride but it's worth it to sprawl in a field and listen to Darren sing.

"I'm surprised you don't have secret stashes of musical instruments everywhere you frequent," Chris says, laying out with his arms folded behind his head.

"Joke's on you," Darren says. "I normally jut bring them with me."  
  
"And you didn't this time..."

Darren grins. "Had a passenger."

"Are you saying you actually sacrificed quality time with your guitar to hang with moi?" Chris covers his heart with his hand. "I'm touched."

"Well, I go home to the guitar, so don't get too misty."

"Does it keep you warm on lonely nights?"

"Oh yeah, baby. I stroke those frets all night long."

"You pervert. " Chris's voice goes softer as Darren leans in, kissing him. "Someone should warn the band director. Who knows what you get up to with the community instruments?"

Darren snorts, an indelicate noise too close up to be anything but gross sounding. It makes Chris laugh.

He looks up and he's staring straight into Darren's eyes. "I never learned how to play anything."

"There's always time," Darren says.

"Is this where you offer to give me lessons?"

"I think I'm already expanding enough boundaries for you." Darren kisses him again, harder, guiding his mouth open with the hint of control into the kiss. Chris is far from passive, though; he licks into Darren's mouth and tries not to think about how weird it is to have a slick wet textured tongue stroking over his. The passes back and forth between them until crickets are chirping and the faint voice-laden buzz or day has turned into the ambiance of night.

"I need to go," Chris eventually says, once he's thoroughly rumpled and halfway to debauched. "Before I turn into a pumpkin."

Darren sighs an flops onto his back. Chris resolves not to stare at his crotch, and manages to keep the resolution for all of three seconds.

Well, at least he's not the only one suffering.

Darren catches him, of course. He grins and grabs Chris's hand and winks at him.

Chris thinks that Darren is doing that thing where he's saying something without actually saying something, and Chris isn't sure what but he's too unsure to ask.

*

It takes nineteen days from their first kiss before Darren actually sees him at school. They have no classes together, so avoidance hasn't actually been difficult at all. But he hears a whooping shout down the hallway and his stomach drops. He actually turns the other direction and tries to pretend he hasn't heard, but Darren breaks off from who he's talking to to actually chase Chris down. "Hey! I found you!"

Darren is so happy to see him.

Chris wants to be that happy right back at him, but he's not. He can already feel people staring at them as they walk through the halls.

Darren is probably used to people looking at him. For Darren, he gets greeted and happily accepted every time he walks into a room.

Chris... not so much.

Darren is giving him that kicked puppy look now. "Um, everything okay?"

"Yeah." Chris hates how abrupt his voice is. "But I have class."

"Right." That's a tone that Chris hates to hear from Darren; nervous, confused. "Because, school and all. So. That makes sense."

"You have class, too," Chris adds. Class with a lot of seniors that would as soon spit on Chris as give him a hand.

"Fine," Darren says, giving Chris one more hurt look before turning around and walking away.

Chris watches him go with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

*

Darren doesn't come by the library that evening.

Chris tells himself that it's probably good. He tells himself that the thing with Darren wasn't going to last anyway.

His hands shake as he sorts books and he ends up spending more time sitting in the children's section with his back against the wall than actually working. His eyes and throat burn, but he tries to find the silver lining. He tries to remind himself that he's just a teenager and his life will be more than this one shitty moment.

He got his first kiss from his first real crush - how many people get to say that?

Something is better than nothing.

But it's hard, because for a few weeks he had someone to talk to and someone to kiss and maybe it always felt a little surreal but it was still good.

*

He thinks about skipping school the next day but decides not to. His attendance is spotty already so clearly it's not a compulsion for that perfect record... it's just that even if he sat at home or skipped and went to the library to hide out...

Even if he did, he'd just sit around thinking about Darren and feeling sorry for himself.

So he wakes up and he gets dressed and he eats cereal at the table with his sister and he shoves his books into his backpack and makes his way through the same routine he goes through every other morning.

He makes it to his locker with about five minutes to spare. He has two textbooks weighing approximately eleven pounds each balanced against his arm already when he opens it...

... and then closes it again, and looks around.

No one is standing there with a bucket of pig's blood. Bob Saget hasn't jumped out holding a mic and an idiotic smile. Ashton Kutcher isn't snickering around the corner.

He opens the locker again.

The stuff is still there.

He reaches out and pokes at the can of Diet Coke, one last attempt at reassuring himself nothing is going to explode out at him. It seems innocent enough: a Diet Coke, a Twix bar, and a small plastic box. It takes Chris a moment even after picking it up to realize that it's a cassette tape.

He pops it open and studies it. He takes the tape out and looks at the insert more closely. It's covered in handwriting that gets smaller toward the end of each line as letters have to be crammed in.

Songs. Which makes sense, given that it's a tape. But Chris hasn't even heard of most of them. He turns the actual cassette around in his hand and sees that it's labeled with a white sticker along the bottom. The ink is smeared with the hint of a thumb print like it was written while being held and Chris has to squint to make it out:

**Darren's Kick-Ass Mix Tape, Volume I: Prepare Yourself to be Wooed**


	3. Chapter 3

Darren is pretty sure of a few things: that Chris likes hanging out with him, that Chris likes _making_ out with him, and that Chris likes... him. 

He's not at all sure why Chris looked like he was about to piss himself when he saw Darren in school or why he cold-shouldered so hard that Darren is still feeling the freeze burn of it, but Darren's not the type of guy easily dissuaded from things he wants. 

And he does want Chris. He's a senior, he only has a few months left in this school and the future is big and wide and open after this, but he's not going to be so wrapped up in what comes next that he lets right now go to waste. 

He realized he was fucked the first time he daydreamed about taking Chris to prom. 

*

Mission one: get Chris to talk to him. 

It's actually not that hard. He says hi to Chris once and Chris ignores him so Darren just follows him around after that, not crowding him too much but not trying to hide what he's doing. 

Darren follows him around the library while he works and after seventeen minutes, Chris breaks. 

"What do you want?" He asks, voice brimming with exasperation. 

Darren yanks a book off the shelf and pretends to be interested in it. Just some casual Wednesday afternoon light reading on... the mating habits of endangered species. Well, hopefully that isn't foreshadowing.

"Oh, Chris, hi! What are you doing there?" 

"You're stalking me!" Chris puts a hand on his hip. "Stop it." 

Darren pushes the book back onto the shelf and turns to look at Chris. "I like you. And I think you like me. If I'm really making you uncomfortable, I'll go away. I don't want to be the dude that does that to anyone. I can totally take no for an answer. But I just want to be clear: I do like you. And that's all I wanted to say, so, now... I just... exit, stage right."

Darren takes a few steps backwards, hoping Chris will stop him. 

Chris doesn't. 

*

He has to stop outside the library. He bends over, hands on his knees, feeling slightly sick. His heart pounds and he's sweaty. 

It's not like Darren's always gotten everything he's wanted in life, but he's lucky. He has talent, moderate intelligence, decent looks, and a comfortable home life. He's gotten most of the stuff he wanted. Most of the people he's liked have liked him back, or at least succumbed to his charms. 

But not Chris, apparently, and Darren knows it's a totally hormone-driven irrational reaction but he just want to burst into tears or run back inside and yell at Chris that he's dumb for not liking Darren back. 

He won't do that. 

He will probably go home, find his Mom and make her give him a huge, then listen to the most emo music ever invented or enjoyed by heartbroken teenage boys. 

The door opens behind him and Darren straightens. He's about to walk away and lick his wounds in peace when he sees who it is. 

"You're still here," Chris says, slightly out of breath himself, like maybe he can through the library. 

(Against the rules, for the record. Darren knows. He got grounded for two weeks when he was thirteen because he took a corner too hard and toppled a whole display of that year's Harry Potter book.)

"Yeah," Darren says, not wanting to hope but still hoping. 

Chris blurts out, "I do like you. I just can't go out with you."

"Oh. Well. That makes no sense at all." 

"I know." Chris looks and sounds miserable. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Darren grins. He feels better already. "I'll just have to change your mind." 

*

"Flowers?" Chris asks, staring at the bouquet in Darren's hand. "I'm not a girl." 

"And I don't gender stereotype," Darren cheerfully responds, waving the bouquet at Chris. "Besides, who the fuck doesn't like flowers? They're pretty and they smell good." 

He pauses to sneeze. 

Chris yanks them out of his hand. "You're allergic, aren't you?" 

"Maybe," Darren admits. "A little. But, come on. That makes it even better, right? I risked my life to bring them to you." 

"You risked minor sniffles to bring them to me," Chris corrects him. 

"But you like them?" 

Chris sighs. He looks at them again. 

Then he smiles - just a little, just enough. "I like them." 

* 

He also observes. He starts to look for Chris, and to his surprise it's not that hard to find him. It helps to have friends who are office aides; he already knows Chris's locker number... and his combination.

He starts leaving little things for Chris. Mostly it's candy or a drink from the drink machines in the student lounge. Those things are cheap and convenient and he can make sure the drink is still cold for Chris. 

Doesn't really matter that Chris could buy his own diet soda. The point is that he doesn't have to - Darren leaves it for him. 

He splurges every few days, too - like today. He leans against the wall by the water fountain down the hall and watches Chris pull a little green box out of his locker. He digs his finger into the cardboard box opening and tugs the flaps loose then reaches inside. 

Hanging from a thin black ribbon is a small golden snitch. It's just a book store trinket but when Darren held the display it felt pleasingly cool and heavy in his palm, and he liked how the wings were engraved into it like they were wrapped tightly shut. 

It was pretty, and Chris must think so too because he stares at it for a very long time before slipping it into his pocket. He grabs whatever textbook he'd actually been going for and takes off in the opposite direction, never noticing Darren watching. 

* 

Everyone around Darren starts to tease him. 

His dad makes fun of the way he spills syrup all over his shirt because he isn't paying attention. 

His mom makes fun of the way he can't stop bursting into song. 

His friends make fun of them because they know he's got someone he's talking to, they just don't know who. 

Darren would tell them, but he gets this feeling from the way Chris keeps saying stupid stuff like _this doesn't mean we're dating_ that he might not appreciate Darren telling people they're dating. 

Besides, he doesn't want to embarrass Chris. He doesn't want to scare Chris away. 

He can't put his finger on what or why but something about Chris just feels - fragile, sort of, but not really, but like... like he's got this bubble around himself and _Chris_ knows how to keep himself from getting hurt but he just does it by not letting anyone at all in. 

Darren, in all his bright-eyed optimism, wants to teach Chris that it's okay to trust someone sometimes. 

* 

"Come on," Darren whines. "My mom made them." 

"I don't even like coconut," Chris says, shaking his head at the bag of cookies. 

"There are some without. I didn't know what you liked, so I just asked mom to make a whole bunch... there's like, um, there's some chocolate chip, and some white chocolate macadamia, and some peanut butter-" Darren could keep going but Chris is giving him a strange look. 

"Your mom just agreed to make half a dozen different batches of cookies?" He asks. 

"Oh, um. Yeah?" Darren grins. "She thinks whoever I'm courting is a good influence. Since I spend so much time at the library now. She thinks you're very studious and it might rub off on me." 

"Instead the opposite is happening and you're just ruining my good work ethic," Chris grumbles. He digs through the bag until he finds an unassuming looking chocolate chip one. He bites into it and almost makes a noise highly inappropriate for the religious studies section of the stacks. "These are amazing."

"Told you," Darren gloats. 

Chris doesn't say anything else until he's licked the last smear of chocolate from his thumb. "Courting, though? Really?" 

Darren shrugs. "What else do I call it? I come to visit you and bring you presents and we don't make out anymore. Courting." 

Chris gives him a look that makes Darren's stomach do things it's previously only done on actual roller coasters. "We could still make out, I guess." 

Darren grins and they both lean in, both smiling but trying not to, because smiling too much into a kiss just makes it weird. Chris's lips are already slightly parted when their mouths meet and Darren only gives a couple of chaste kisses, almost like a greeting, before he licks in. 

And Chris jerks back, making a face. "Ew," he says, wiping his mouth off. "You had a coconut one." 

Darren sighs and grabs the bag of cookies, finding a double-chocolate. He breaks off a chunk and eats it quickly. "There, now you won't take coconut." 

Chris is still looking at him suspiciously. "That was too fast. I don't want crumbs in your mouth, that'd be gross." 

Darren finds his water bottle hooked onto his backpack and takes a couple swigs. "There, now can we go back to the smoochy-smooch now?" 

Chris considers it, and then sighs. "Fine, I suppose." 

"Yes!" Darren fist pumps and then grabs Chris and kisses him so well that cookies are the last thing on his mind. 

Yeah. Darren can totally do this.


	4. Chapter 4

Chris’s parents aren't the 'sit him down for a talk' types. They'd probably like to be, but Chris doesn't give them much to go on. He's perfected the art of the blank faced stare and has been known to practice selective mute-ism at his leisure. Usually, his parents just try to get the general message across that they're trying to convey and then they leave him alone. 

They're protective. Chris understands why. He's not their only child but Hannah - well, she'll never give them problems like this. They never have to worry about what she does when she's out of their sight, not like they do with Chris. 

He understands it coming from a place of love but it doesn't make it any less annoying to feel constantly hounded and treated like he's doing something wrong or like they don't think he's trustworthy enough to make his own decisions about people.

The best he can do is ignore the hints and hope they give up quickly, but Darren catches his mother's attention and apparently it's not in a good way. He suffers two weeks of, "Where did you meet this boy again?" and "Are you seeing - what was his name?" and "I think I'd rather have you home for dinner." and finally, the clincher: "How old did you say he was?" 

He hears his parents talking about Darren one night when they think he's already upstairs. 

"He has a beard, Tim," his mother is saying. 

"That was not a beard." His father scoffs. 

"Stubble, at least," his mother insists. 

"And, what? You're afraid Chris will catch puberty from him? Honey, I think that'll happen no matter who he's hanging around with. Eventually, anyway. We hope."

(Ouch. Low blow, dad.) 

(Not that Chris can really argue it.)

"I just think he would be better off with some friends his own age. Maybe a nice, sweet girl." His mother sighs, and it's that sigh that makes Chris feel about two inches tall. 

His parents will love him no matter what, but that doesn't change that he'll never be what they expected and wanted him to be. 

He creeps back upstairs and wallows in his misery for a few minutes before he does the one thing that always makes him feel better now: he calls Darren. 

*

 

Not dating Darren feels a lot like how Chris imagines dating Darren would. 

There's a lot of time spent at Darren's house. His mother is tiny and adorable and cooks strange meals that taste amazing and loves chocolate so much that there's always some out in every little candy dish or trinket tray. 

They go to Chris's house twice. The first time is just to pick up a book. The second time Chris thinks no one is home, but his parents show up after half an hour because the appointment they were supposed to be at with Hannah got canceled. 

His mother isn't thrilled to see him home alone with a boy. (To be fair, she'd probably have the same reaction if she found him home alone with a girl, even that figment of a ‘nice, sweet girl’ she spoke about to his father.) 

The patented Criss charm doesn't really win her over that much, much to Darren’s shock. Darren’s used to adults worshipping him for his wit and charisma. His jokes just fall flat in the face of Chris’s mother and he is at least, to his credit, smart enough to know when he’s defeated.

After that, Darren acts like he understands a little bit better why Chris prefers to spend all of his time at the library or all, and all of the time they spend together elsewhere. 

*

One day, just like magic, Chris Colfer is no longer a virgin. 

Okay, it's less magic and more fumbling hands and wet kisses and about three minutes of awkward rutting, but either way. 

Virginity. 

Not a thing. 

* 

He panics, of course. 

He panics and he leaves which is probably the worst thing he can do because Darren is smiling all dopey-cute at him and he's such an asshole that he'd probably cuddle and ask Chris if it was good for him, if Chris let him. 

But Chris doesn't. 

When Darren asks him where he's going he says, "Bathroom," and then he leaves. 

Darren calls him after about ten minutes. "Uh, you um. Still in the bathroom?" 

"No," Chris says. 

"You want to tell me where you are?" 

"No," Chris says again, voice shaking. 

"Aw, babe..." Darren sighs. "Come on. Are you freaking out? You can talk to me." 

"Yes, but - no. Not over what you think." Chris drops his voice to a whisper. "I just can't do this." 

Darren laughs, but he sounds sad. "Babe, I hate to break it to you, but I think you already did. And you're kind of making me feel like an asshole here. Because I thought you wanted that. I mean I asked you like five hundred times-" 

"I did want it," Chris says, interrupting him, because the idea that Darren feels like he pushed Chris into anything makes Chris feel like he's going to be sick. "It's just - what you said. After." 

"What-" There's a pause where Darren is obviously playing back the scene. "And it being the best early birthday present?" 

"Yeah." 

"Dude, I don't - what? Why did that upset you?" 

"Because you're going to get arrested!" Chris blurts out. 

"Huh? I'm so confused." 

"I'll be there in three minutes." Chris, who had only made it as far as the corner of Darren's street, realizes that this is an awful conversation to have on the phone. He hangs up the phone and starts to walk back toward Darren's house. 

* 

Darren is waiting by the door. He's wearing a different shirt than he had before, and sweatpants instead of his jeans. He looks adorable and rumpled. Chris mourns the lost moments of just curling up in bed with him. 

"Come on," Darren says, leading the way up to his bedroom. Once they're inside, he shuts the door even though no one else is home. "So, come on. Tell me what this is about." 

"Your birthday," Chris admits. "You're going to be eighteen, aren't you?" 

"Yeah. In like two days. I was planning a thing, I was going to ask if you wanted to come - like, with me." 

"I can't." Chris rubs his hands over his face. "I lied to you, okay? When you asked how old I was." 

"Shit, Chris. You said you were sixteen... how...?" 

"I'll be sixteen," Chris says, looking away. "Eventually." 

“But…” 

Might as well rip that band-aid off at once. “I’m a freshman.” 

Darren lets out a laugh of disbelief. "Okay. Well. Damn. But - you have a job? At the library?" 

"I volunteer," Chris admits. "But they're going to hire me when I turn sixteen." 

"Fuck." Darren flops back against his bed. "I just popped a freshman's cherry." 

"I told you that you didn't want to date me," Chris whispers, voice drenched in misery. He's dangerously close to crying. "I'll just go." 

"Hey, wait." Darren sits up and grabs his arm, fumbling forward. He attaches himself to Chris like a limpet and Chris eventually holds him back. It's a tight hug, the warm squeezy kind, a little bit desperate. "Don't, okay? I'm not - I mean. This sucks, and... I don't even know like... how much trouble I could get into. But I don't want you to go. I like you. A lot. In case you hadn't noticed." 

"I don't know either," Chris says. "But my parents would kill me. And, um. They don't even know I'm gay." 

"I figured." Darren rests his chin on Chris's shoulder. "Mine wouldn't be too thrilled." 

"Your friends would make fun of you so much." Chris closes his eyes. 

"Fuck them." Darren says in a deeper voice than normal, turning his head to press his face to Chris's neck. He kisses there a few times and then pulls back. "We'll figure it out."


	5. Chapter 5

Darren turns eighteen two days later. 

Chris stays up until eleven pm the night before baking cookies. Cake would be too hard to fit into his backpack, and too awkward to explain to his mother, but cookies - everyone likes cookies. He does a double batch so there are plenty for Hannah and his family, and then carefully sorts the other dozen into a box he stopped on his way home from school and bought. 

There's a card, too. He deliberates over what to write inside of it before only signing his name. He considers himself great with words, but apparently words that are supposed to mean something to someone he cares about are the new exception. It all feels like too much and too important, though he doubts he could really let Darren down in any way at this point. 

* 

It's like facing a death march as Chris walks into school the next morning. 

Darren's locker is decorated. That's not a surprise. Darren has a lot of friends, friends who like him enough to do nice things for him like that. 

But it's Chris whose name Darren shouts when he sees him coming, that huge smile on his face. It's Chris that Darren wraps up in a hug and then keeps close by, introducing Chris to all of his friends. 

"You guys gotta keep an eye out for him after I graduate," Darren says to a couple of girls Chris knows are only juniors. "Make sure no one tries to scoop him up." 

"Oh, you laying your claim down, Criss?" One of the girl asks, smirking. 

Darren glances over at Chris. Chris shrugs a little and smiles. He's so far out of his depth here, but that must be the right answer because the arm Darren has around him goes a little tighter. Chris can feel the press of individual fingertips against his hip. 

"Sure am," Darren says.

* 

They sit on the empty bleachers by the football field between third and fourth period. Darren shares the cookies with him. "These are almost better than my Moms," Darren says. 

"That's a lie." Chris calls him on it. "It's a total lie." 

"Yeah, it is," Darren agrees. "But you made these, so that makes them awesome." 

Chris grins down at the scuffed metal under him. "Does that go for anything I do?" 

"Maybe not anything," Darren laughs. "I mean, I would say yes, but I'm kind of afraid of what you'd do if you wielded that kind of power." 

"Total world domination," Chris responds instantly. 

"And, yeah, that's what I was afraid of." Darren takes another bite of the cookie. "I mean, what would you even do with the world?" 

"Lots of things!" Chris doesn't even have to think too hard. "Put a two decade limit on series reboots. Diet Coke would become the national beverage. Demand that all of England be transformed into a wizarding world theme park. Prison sentences to anyone that breaks character. Then I'd redirect funding from military sources and put it toward the space program."

"Find out if there's cheese on the moon?" Darren asks. 

"Don't be stupid." Chris steals a cookie. They aren't Darren's mom's, but they are still good. "Everyone knows there isn't cheese on the moon. But there might be aliens." 

"On the moon?" 

"That's why there's no cheese," Chris explains. "The aliens ate it." 

"Why do we want to make contact with cheese thieves in the first place?" Darren frowns. 

"We could just get rid of them?" 

"Oh, damn. You don't just want world domination. You want _moon_ domination, too." Darren gives him an admiring look. 

"I aim high." Chris smirks. Then he leans in and bumps his shoulder against Darren's. "That's why I'm with you, right?" 

Darren just beams at him. 

* 

Chris calls in to work after school. He hasn't done that very often, but today... 

Well, it is a special occasion, after all. 

"My parents aren't home," Chris says. He stares at Darren's shoulder. He's not quite brave enough to do this while looking him in the eye. 

"Ooooh?" Darren says, drawing the word out. "What a random bit of trivia that is." 

Chris shoves him. "I want to blow you." 

Darren almost chokes on absolutely nothing. "Um. Uh." 

"Yes or no?" Chris is impatient. He wants the agony of awkwardness over with. 

"Uh, duh? I mean, what are we still standing here for?" Darren grabs his arm and Chris laughs as he stumbles to catch up. 

* 

There's a dick in his mouth. It kind of hurts his jaw, but in a totally-worth-it way. 

"Happy fucking birthday to me," Darren pants, staring down at Chris. 

He has a nice tasting dick, at least. A little salty and the smell is a little stronger here but it's not bad. It's kind of musky, kind of... _boy_. And, yeah, boy smell - that does it for Chris. Kind of a relief, actually, since he's pretty sure most of the sex he'll have in his life (oh god, he'll be having sex, when did that become more inevitability than fantasy?) won't have the fortune of coming directly after a shower. 

Oh, god, what if Darren doesn't like dick smell, though? What if he thinks Chris needs to shower first? What if- 

Darren's groan cuts through Chris's increasingly anxiety ridden internal monologue. 

Right. Okay. Blowjob. 

Chris hasn't actually done much with this mouth up to this point, besides sort of cradle Darren's dick in it. He shuts his eyes halfway and breathes in and out and then sucks a little. 

Darren groans even louder. Yeah, it's a good thing no one is home. 

His hands are splayed over Darren's thighs, holding on. He lets one grope up, fingers brushing the crinkly soft skin of Darren's balls, feel the more sparse hair along there, and then wrap around the shaft to jerk Darren off while he sucks. 

It's going to get very uncomfortable very fast but from the sounds Darren is making, that won't matter. It's kind of grunting, panting, _oh oh oh_ , with Chris's name thrown in there a few times. 

Chris is trying to memorize it as material for an infinitesimal number of future jerk off sessions. He could rub himself raw to the sound of Darren getting a blowjob, and has every intention of doing just that. 

Or - his evil mind throws out there in thought form - maybe Darren will blow him afterward, too. Maybe it'll be even hotter. 

Or maybe not. While he would love to experience the wonders of oral sex, he can't imagine anything better than knowing he's getting Darren off. 

Forget world domination, or moon domination. He's actually just going for total Darren Dick Domination. 

"I'm gonna blow," Darren suddenly announces, and that would be very polite if it were not timed exactly with the first shot of come. "Oh fuck fuck sorry fuck-" 

Come puddles on his tongue but Chris hadn't planned on swallowing. He jerks back more out of shock than anything else, and the second and third spurts land on his face. If not for the context of the situation, it would actually be pretty disgusting. It's warm and wet and thick sliding down his cheek and over his chin where a little dribbles out of his mouth. 

He swallows the rest, and - hm. Not bad, actually. Maybe next time he’ll go for it on purpose. 

Darren drops to his knees and stares at Chris in the face so hard that Chris actually thinks Darren's going to lean in and lick his own come off. His dick twitches at the porn-worthy visual but instead Darren grabs a t-shirt (Chris's) and uses it to wipe Chris's face off. "Fuck, man, I'm sorry. I meant to - I mean - just kinda, you know, went off there. Not um, really under my control." 

"It's fine," Chris says, distracted and hurried. He grabs Darren's hand and shoves it down between his legs. "Can you just-" 

"Oh! Oh." Darren looks down and squeezes with his hand. Chris humps forward and he could so come like this, just rutting against Darren's fingers, but Darren takes the pressure away and uses both hands to undo Chris's pants. 

Chris lasts all of two strokes before his come is splattering over Darren's thighs, a little even striping over Darren's cock - soft now but still a little swollen, a ruddy red color. 

"I'm not even apologizing," Chris announces. He's giddy-happy-horny, drunk on an orgasm he was much more prepared to have this time. He earned that hair trigger through youth and inexperience and he will feel no shame. 

He doesn't think Darren even knows what he's not-apologizing for, but Darren still says, "Don't," and pushes silly damp kisses all over Chris's face until Chris laughs and shoves him away. "You're perfect, never apologize." 

"You're an idiot, and I won't." Chris stands up and grabs Darren's arms to pull him up, too. He tugs his underwear back up but leaves all the rest of his clothes on the floor, and sits on the bed. "We have an hour and a half." 

"Set your phone alarm," Darren says, yawning and stretching out on the bed beside Chris just like he was always meant to be there. 

Chris is too pumped with adrenaline to nap, but it's almost worth staying awake just to watch Darren sleep beside him. 

* 

He sends Darren home when the alarm goes off, but Darren is an awful influence and convinces Chris to go with him. 

That Chris is absolutely starving, too nervous earlier in the day to manage anything for lunch, has a little to do with it, too. 

They split curly fries and chicken strips at a fast food joint halfway between their houses. 

"My mom wants you to come over for dinner next weekend," Darren says. 

"As your boyfriend?" Chris asks. 

Darren shrugs, but Chris knows that look on his face now. It's that look he gets when he wants something but doesn't want to have to ask for it. Chris can only imagine how much that look has gotten him in his life. A tiny part of him wants to say no just out of principle but that tiny part is drowned out by the much larger part that would give Darren all the cheese on the moon if he wanted it. 

(That, Chris figures, is exactly how the look is engineered to work.) 

"Okay," Chris says. Darren looks so happy that he hesitates to bring the moon down, but still feels he has to add: "I'm not ready to tell my parents, though. I don't know when I will be... I mean. It might be a long time." 

Darren just nods. "It's okay. We'll figure it out, no matter how long it takes. Because we're fucking awesome, you know that? You're gonna take the world over and I'm gonna be sitting right behind you cheering you on." 

And Chris - skeptical Chris, Chris who never takes anyone's word for anything, Chris who wants so much but never expects to get anything like this, Chris who insists on realism to a fault... 

Chris believes him.


	6. epilogue

Chris loves the smell of books. He's loved it since he was a little kid and he'd trail behind his grandmother into the library. She'd leave him in the children's section while she perused the large print Harlequins but inevitably he'd wander off on his own, quietly walking down the aisles and staring up in awe at the shelves and shelves of books. He'd trace his fingers over the spines, catching on glossy dust jackets and coming back faintly dirty from the unprotected ones. Sometimes he'd just pick one at random and try to read it, though he only got a few pages in before boredom and impatience took hold. 

He loves books though he's never really loved to read anything anyone's ever told him to for a quiz or an essay. He enjoys finding treasures on his own and the kind of fantasy fairytales that he's drawn to aren't something he's ever grown out of. Some of the best things in his life have come from being around books. 

Working in a library is the best of both worlds for him. He's too busy these days to read for pleasure all that much but he gets to be around the books, touch and fondle and care for them - and he gets paid actual money to do it. On slow days in the library - days like today - he can even sit and steal a peaceful few minutes to flip through that new Dystopian young adult series he's had his eye on. 

He's heard they're making a movie, and Darren will want to see it... maybe this weekend, though they already have plans to meet some friends for drinks on Friday night and Chris has a work shift Saturday afternoon and Sunday is for homework so he was really hoping maybe Saturday night they could just stay in… 

"Ooh, looks good." A familiar voice says low, right in Chris's ear. “Hey, isn’t that a movie or something? I think I watched the trailer yesterday, it looks totally badass.” 

Chris jumps, and then turns and fwaps Darren on the shoulder with the book like it's second nature. 

By now, it is. 

"You're not supposed to be here!" Chris says, putting the book down and turning to give Darren a quick kiss hello. “You know how it looks. Creepy older men lurking on college campuses, preying on the youth of America.” 

“I think I stopped having to prey on you when you _moved in with me-_ ” 

Across the room someone coughs, reminding Darren not to talk too loudly. 

"Hey, Colfer!" Chris's boss says, pushing a cart by them. "Cutting you free early today. Get out of here." 

Chris looks at Darren. "You talked her into this, didn't you? And seriously - aren't you supposed to be at work?" 

"Traded shifts with someone," Darren says. "I mean, it's not every day your boyfriend turns twenty one."

Chris laughs. "This is the moment you've been waiting for, isn't it?" 

Darren grins at him. "For five years, baby. Five whole years."

Chris closes the book and stands up, placing it carefully back on the shelf. "Wow, it has been five years. And isn't this fitting, since we met in a library?" 

"Of course it is." Darren holds a hand out. The silver ring he's wearing glints in the afternoon sunlight filtered through tall windows around them. The one he’s wearing now came from Italy, bought during Darren’s high school graduation trip. His parents told him he could invite a friend, then spent the entire trip pretending like they didn’t know Chris and Darren were dating, until Darren awkwardly announced it at dinner one night. 

The similar conversation with Chris’s parents a few weeks later into that summer hadn’t gone quite so smoothly, but they’ve worked it out in the years since then. His parents have even almost stopped leaving church pamphlets conveniently placed around the house when Chris brings Darren home. 

The hand Chris takes grasps his with a strong hold, breaking him out of his mental trip into nostalgia. "Five years and you still won't let me defile you in the stacks." 

"You would understand why if you ever had to try and clean semen off book pages," Chris primly responds. 

"Look, I know you love Harry Potter and all-" 

Chris wishes he hadn't put the book back just so he could hit Darren with it again. He settles for a hip check. "I'm sorry, it's _your_ semen I'm talking about, since you're the one with the aiming issues." 

"One time! You get splooge on someone’s precious literary collection one measley time and it’s like you’re branded for life! And I still say that was your fault, anyway. If it's your hand on the joystick, it's your job to aim it." Darren bumps him back. "Maybe if we hadn't been in such a hurry..." 

"We were always in a hurry at my house," Chris remembers. "My mom and her bad habit of forgetting things and coming back home." 

"At least your mom wasn't trying to catch you." Darren winces at the memory of his brother and his mother both conveniently 'dropping in' on them. "I think she used to pay Chuck to sit in the room with us just to make sure I was behaving." 

"Your mom loves me," Chris says, frowning. 

"Yeah, exactly!" Darren says. "It was you she was being protective over, not me." 

Chris laughs. "So she loves me more than she loves you." 

"You are the well behaved one." 

"Who doesn't jizz on books." 

"... yet." 

"How many more times do I get to hit you before decide you aren't paying for my dinner?" Chris asks. “Because the urge to hit you is strong, but I don’t sacrifice free birthday food for it.” 

"Aw, I wouldn't do that to you on your birthday," Darren says. "But I might downgrade it from Landry's to McDonalds, but I'll still pay." 

"Such a gentleman," Chris says, and grabs Darren's ass. 

Darren yelps and laughs loudly, caught off guard - so loudly that from a couple rows over they hear someone hiss, "Shhhhh!"


End file.
